Both the Emperor and the Empress constantly referred to England. The first idea of the Duma had been to induce the Imperial Family to go to England, but certain powers there were antagonistic to the proposition, as it was considered likely to be unfavourably received by the Labour Party. But those who were fearful of sheltering a defenceless family, whose only crime consisted in being defenceless, need have had no apprehensions.
The Emperor and the Empress did not wish to leave Russia. “I’d rather go to the uttermost ends of Siberia,” said the Emperor. Neither he nor the Empress could face the prospect of wandering about the Continent, and living at Swiss hotels as ex-Royalties, snapshotted and paragraphed by representatives of the picture papers, and interviewed by amazing American journalists. Their retiring spirits shrank from cheap publicity; they considered that it was the duty of every Russian to stand by Russia, and face the common danger together.
Apart from their personal disinclination to go to England, the Soviets were opposed to the suggestion, and it was stated that, if any train left Tsarkoe with the Imperial fugitives, it would be stopped, and everyone murdered, as the Emperor knew too much to be allowed to leave Russia.
The Emperor brought me the newspaper which contained this statement. He was in a terrible rage.... He could scarcely contain himself, and he almost threw the paper at me.
“Read this, Lili,” he exclaimed, his face white with passion. “_Beasts!_ How dare they say such things.... They judge others by themselves.”
“Oh, Your Majesty,” I answered, greatly troubled, “please don’t read these horrible papers.”
“I must, I must, Lili. I feel that I must know all,” said the Emperor.
Occasionally he was in better spirits, and more like his old cheerful self. The Emperor was generally able to see the humour of any situation, and he would sometimes laugh at the idea of being, what he called, “an Ex.” Everything was then “Ex.” “Don’t call me an Empress any more--I’m only an Ex,” laughed the Empress; and one day, when some especially unpalatable ham was served at lunch, the Emperor remarked, “Well, this may have once been ham, but now it’s nothing but an ‘ex-ham.’” He was always amused by the likeness between him and his cousin, King George. One day he showed me a photograph of the latter, saying, “Have you seen my last photograph, Lili? Doesn’t it flatter me?”